Behind the Mask
by SavvyEnigma
Summary: His dad is abusive, his sister has cancer. Trent tries to hide the truth about his life, but finds that Sam Witwicky and his friends are breaking through his mask, and they learn the truth. Rated T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I merely borrow the characters to weave my own tales. My apologies if Trent seems too OOC.

* * *

Most people thought that Trent DeMarco hated Sam Witwicky. He didn't. Tent envied him. Sam had close friends, loving parents, a happy family—everything that Trent wanted. Trent had "friends" for appearances, a drunk for a father, no mom, and a younger sister with cancer. Trent was always the one who had to go in with Gabriela. He was the one who had to donate bone marrow, sit with her through the agony after treatments, and comfort her when she cried.

And through all of that, he had to stay in college and keep up appearances. He had to laugh and joke, act arrogant, play football, party, act as if nothing was wrong. He hid the silent agony behind the mask of a jerk. When Mikaela left him at the lake, and Witwicky gave her a ride, he was glad. Mikaela didn't deserve to be stuck with him. Nearly every day, when he got out of school or after work, he would go visit Gabby in the hospital. He had no time for a girlfriend. Then, in late spring, Trent found the courage to break free of his mask.

* * *

Trent paused as he entered the room. The young girl lying in the hospital bed looked up and smiled, despite the bruise on her cheek from where she had hit the pillow too hard. "Brought you flowers," He said, setting the bouquet of roses down on the table. "I'll get a vase later." Gabriella hugged him, and he carefully returned the embrace. "How're you feeling?" He asked, stroking her bald head.

"Trent, you see me every day." She said with a chuckle.

"Almost every day." He corrected. "I'm not about to let you sit here alone and suffer."

"You suffer too." She pointed out, lowering the bed.

"Misery loves company." He said dryly, carefully tucking the sheets closer to her thin frame, studying the deep bags under her eyes and weary expression.

"I'm fine. Just tired."

When she had first started Chemo and her hair had fallen out, Trent had shaved his head and wrote, in marker, on his forehead, "Hair grows back. My ego won't." and drawn the cancer ribbon on his cheek, along with dozens of hearts and smiley faces. Gabby had laughed until she cried. Trent had proudly kept the words and drawings until they washed off, several days later. Since their father was never there and their mother was dead, Trent gave Gabby the support and comfort she needed to make it through the long nights after treatments.

"Trent?" Gabby's voice broke him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, Gabby?"

"You don't have to hide. You can let someone in, Trent."

* * *

_You don't have to hide. You can let someone in._

Gabby's words echoed in his mind as he sat in his truck, staring at the steering wheel. He hid the fact that his father abused him. He hid the fact that Gabby had cancer, and that he was her donor. He hid the fact that it hurt every time he acted like a jerk. He hid the fact that every night he would hold back tears. He hid the fact that he woke up screaming and crying in the middle of the night because of nightmares. Deep in thought, he put the truck into drive and hit the streets, driving without a destination as he thought.

After a while, he realized he'd come to a stop facing a cliff, miles out of town. For a few minutes, he simply stared straight ahead, then looked down at the dashboard, reminded of all the times he'd simply gone out for a drive to get away from his father. His father was the one who had bought it in the first place, and he had bought it off of Mr. DeMarco. It fairly stank of his father.

Lifting his head, Trent stared at the cliff. Then he got out and walked over to the edge. A steep drop. Slowly, he turned and looked back at his truck.

* * *

A minute later, he watched his truck launch over the edge of the cliff with a blank expression on his face, feeling an odd sense of accomplishment and freedom. The feeling increased as he watched it crash, roll, crumple, and shatter when it hit the ground. There was silence for a few seconds, then he burst out laughing. He laughed so hard that it hurt, and it took him ten minutes to recover enough to pick up his duffel bag and begin walking.

It was a long way back by foot, but he was grinning like a Cheshire cat, and he had a slight bounce in his step. He was free.

Two days later, he moved out of his father's house, bought another truck, and rented a house in Tranquility.

* * *

"I heard that the Olsons' rented out their house." Judy Witwicky said. "I wonder if the new neighbors will be friendly. Maybe we can invite them over for dinner?"

Ron didn't have a chance to reply, as Sam bounded down the stairs. "I'm going out, bye!"

"Curfew at eleven!"

"I know, dad!" Sam called back with a groan.

"Oh, he's gone out with Mikaela." Judy said with a sigh, looking at the baby booties. "And he was so _little_. It's like he just grew up . . ." Sniffing she took a swallow of wine.

Sam grinned as he approached his car. "Hey, Bee."

_Good morning!_ The radio sang.

Suddenly, a red truck backed into the driveway of the house next to them. Sam could hardly believe his eyes when he saw who stepped out. "Trent?" He exclaimed, standing frozen, one hand on Bumblebee's door.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I merely borrow the characters to weave my own tales. My apologies if Trent seems too OOC.

First of all, I would just like to thank everyone who reviewed, added this to story alert, and favorites. I would like to give a special thanks to Duvet, Edvis93, SkyHighFan, Alalaya2, DaNoseKnows, and Mikami92 for adding this to your favorites, Duvet, 9aza, and Harm Marie for reviewing, 9aza, Animalgirl127, Doc Lee, SkyHighFan, JeerShipping4Ever, and Shantastic for puting this on story alert the day I put Behind the Mask up. My day totally sucked, and I'm not kidding, when I opened my email and saw all the alerts, favs, and reviews-15 emails in total-it completely changed my day. I was so happy that I cried. And of course, I would like to thank everyone else who reviewed, put this on alert, and . I'm sorry this update took so long, but I had a little trouble with writers block, which is why this is so short.

_

* * *

_

Trent stared at Witwicky in silence for a minute, wishing he could bash his head against a wall. "Hey, Witwity." He said with a slight smirk.

"It's Witwicky, Trent. What are you doing here?" Sam asked.

"I live here now."

The look on Sam's face was priceless. "Wh—what?" He spluttered.

Trent shot him a smug look, dangled the keys from one finger tauntingly, then walked up the steps, unlocked the door, and entered his house. Once out of sight, he slumped against the wall and groaned. "Perfect. I'm officially hated by the universe."

"I don't get it! Out of all the places to rent, he had to rent our neighbors house!" Sam wailed, banging his head against Bee's steering wheel. Then he gave the dashboard a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Bee."

_/Its okay/Tell me what's on your mind/_

They pulled up in front of Mikaela's house, and a few seconds later, she slid into the front seat. "Sam? What's wrong?"

"Trent's renting our neighbors house." Sam moaned.

"What?"

"I mean, I thought I could finally get away from him, but no, he has to go and decide to live

right next to me!" Sam paled. "What happens if he sees Bumblebee? I'm dead! I'm dead, I am so dead!"

"Sam, calm down." Mikaela said. "It can't be that bad." Sam gave her a look. "Okay, yeah, he's a jerk. Just ignore him."

"I can't ignore him!" Sam exclaimed. "I tried!"

__

/Leave it to me!/

"Thanks, Bee, but I don't think that's the best idea." Sam said with a grin. "I'll figure something out. For now, let's just . . . hang out."

_What am I going to do?_

_

* * *

_

What am I going to do? Trent stared at the ceiling, wondering if he could find inspiration in the plaster. "I could move . . ." He said out loud. No, I can't. This was the only house within a few minutes drive to the hospital, my job, and the "prison of education" that was for rent. "Or I could simply stay here and get into fights with Witwicky." His phone started beeping, reminding him that he had to get going if he was going to swing by the hospital on his way to work. "Guess I'll just have to wing it." He muttered. "And hope that Witwicky decides to ignore me."

__________

________________________

____

* * *

Um, does anyone have an idea for what Trent's job should be? If you could, send me suggestions. Thanks for reading and for being so patient with me.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I merely borrow the characters to weave my own tales. My apologies if Trent seems too OOC, as well as for taking so long to update again. Thank you to everyone who sent in job suggestions.

* * *

"Hey, Demarco!"

Trent gave his boss a tired look. "Kevin, it's too early for you to be so cheerful."

Kevin Franks' expression turned to one of concern. "Bad day?"

Kevin was one of the few who knew that his sister had cancer and that he was her donor. He had to tell Kevin when he got the job so that he could adjust his hours. "Yeah." He said, dragging a hand down his face. "Bad day." Ever since he had learned that he had moved into a house next to the Witwickys, he had been struggling to keep up appearances, and it had take its toll.

"Are you up for work?"

As an answer, Trent grabbed his hardhat and vest. "This road isn't going to fix itself." The rest of the construction workers standing close enough to hear his last comment, spoken louder than the rest, chuckled.

* * *

Trent sighed as he reached for the handle of his front door. It swung open the instant he touched the knob. Suddenly wary, he walked into the kitchen, dropping his keys on the counter. "Thought you could run from me?"

Trent turned around and looked at his father. "How'd you find me?" He asked, voice emotionless.

"I'm a cop."

"Get out."

"I wonder how Gabriella is doing. Maybe it's time for her to come home." Karl said, tapping his chin as if in thought. The threat was obvious.

"Leave Gabby out of this." Trent said, fists clenching.

"You brought her into it."

"Look, I already said I'd stay quiet about your other job." Trent snapped. "What else do you want?"

Karl smirked. "You know exactly what."

"I'm not getting involved in that!"

"Then I think it's time to bring Gabriella home. She doesn't need to stay in the hospital, after all."

Trent lunged forward, hands wrapping around his father's throat, even before he knew what he was doing.

* * *

Sam's head jerked up as Trent's front door flew up, and he rolled down the stairs, struggling against a larger man. As he watched, the other man grabbed for his belt and yanked out a gun. Trent flinched as it went off, and red stained his side, but he twisted around and knocked the gun out of his hand. "Stay away from her!" He yelled at him.

"Make me." The other man said with a sneer, pinning him down. "Face it, Trent, you're weak and you've always been. You can't stop me."

Trent suddenly kicked out, sending him flying. Sam's eyes went wide as he saw the other man's hand wrap around the gun, and he raised it to fire with a smirk on his face. Suddenly, a shocked look crossed his face, and he went to his knees. Trent, on his knees by the edge of the Witwicky's driveway, still had his hand flung out from when he had thrown the garden trowel. For a minute, he stared at the trowel sticking out of the other man's throat as he scrabbled and choked on the ground in his death throes, then he turned his head and looked at Sam. "Call the police." He said clearly before collasping, blood gushing from his side.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I merely borrow the characters to weave my own tales. My apologies if Trent seems too OOC, as well as for taking so long to update again, so sorry for the long wait and the short chapter.

* * *

Trent blinked, staring up at the white ceiling. He was in a hospital. _Why am I in a hospital?_ He wondered. Slowly, his memory came back. His father had found him and threatened to take Gabby home. He had attacked him, and . . . He had killed his father. Trent's eyes snapped open fully, and he jerked into a sitting position, yanking the tubes out of his arm. _Gabby!_ Ignoring the rush of nausea and pain, he tried to get up. The nurses rushed into the room. "Gabby!" He yelled. "Where's Gabby? Is she okay?" The last thing he remembered was seeing one of them jab a needle into his arm.

* * *

Sam stared down at Trent. The jock was curled up slightly, pain etched in his features. When he saw Trent lying on the ground, bleeding to death, he had gotten Bumblebee to call the hospital, while he sat with Trent and tried to stop the bleeding. He had ridden with Trent in the ambulance, for a reason he couldn't explain. Now, he was sitting beside his old enemy. The nurses had said that he had woken up earlier, seemingly delirious, and had injured himself again trying to get up.

Trent's eyes suddenly opened. "Witwit?" He rasped, his words slightly slurred. "What're you doin' here?"

"Um . . . I don't really know." Sam answered honestly.

"How long've I been here?"

"Two days."

"Where's Gabby? She okay?"

"Who's Gabby?" Sam asked, confused.

"Witwizy, this is important." Trent said, grabbing his wrist. Sam winced-Trent had a strong grip. "Go to my house, get my cell, and call the number listed under G. The number is on speed dial, ask for Gabby. Just tell her I had an altercation with Karl, and I'll be fine."

"Okay."

"Thanks." Trent said, closing his eyes and sinking back against the pillows.

Sam watched him for a minute, then got up from the uncomfortable chair and walked down to the parking lot, where he spotted a bright yellow Camaro waiting for him. "Hey, 'Bee." The door swung open, and he got in. "Let's go home."

The rest of the drive was made in silence, except for Bumblebee playing his radio.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I merely borrow the characters to weave my own tales. My apologies if Trent seems too OOC.

I am so, so sorry that it took so long to update! I was on holidays, then I was doing school, and then I had writers block-the reason why this is another short chapter-and everything's been kinda crazy lately. This is just something to let you know I'm alive, and trying to deal with the stupid writers block. I'll try and post a longer chapter later.

* * *

Two Weeks Later:

Sam nervously drummed his fingers on Bumblebee's steering wheel, glancing at Trent every now and then. He'd offered to give the jock a ride back to his house from the hospital, since he'd been discharged, and Trent had accepted. Before taking him home, Sam had dropped him off at the police station so he could clear a few things up and figure out what his scheduled court date was. Trent had seemed surprised when he came out to find that he was still there.

"So," Sam said, in an attempt to break the awkward silence. "Is, uh, everything okay?"

Trent snorted. "I guess." There was silence for a few more minutes. "Listen, Witwicky, I . . . I wanted to thank you for helping out." He said, almost hesitantly. "You didn't have to."

Sam shrugged, unsure of what to say. "Err, no problem?"

At that moment, the radio came on, playing "the Twilight Zone." Trent stared at it.

"Uh, sorry. Broken radio. Been meaning to get it fixed." Sam said with a nervous chuckle. "It does that a lot."

Trent turned his head to look out the window again. There was another long stretch of silence as they pulled up into the Witwicky's driveway. "Witwicker?"

"It's Witwicky." Sam corrected, frowning.

"Break her heart and I'll break yours." With that, rather cryptic comment, Trent got out of Bumblebee and limped into his house.

"Okaay," Sam muttered. "That was kinda weird."

Bumblebee chirped in agreement.

* * *

Sorry. I know it sucks. You can complain if you want to, I won't blame you.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I merely borrow the characters to weave my own tales. My apologies if Trent seems too OOC. Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, , and alerted this story!

This is just a short explanation chapter, the next one should be longer and have more action, I promise.

* * *

"Hey, Kevin. Just calling to let you know I'm outta the hospital. I can't come back to work for a while, and I have a court date next month, but they're not arresting me yet-they just put a tracking device on me." He glanced down at the ankle bracelet. "Until they actually charge me, I'm free to roam around, as long as I don't leave the immediate vicinity of the city. So, yeah. 'Bye."

Trent groaned and tossed his cell phone onto the dresser. He'd made nearly a dozen calls, checking things with the lawyers and the hospital, letting Kevin and Gabby know he was out of the hospital, and confirming his court date. They were letting him stay at home, due to the circumstances surrounding the murder and Gabby's cancer. He wasn't sure to be grateful or not. His father had left him with more than legal problems. He'd left him with a very large threat hanging over his head.

His father's boss.

The one he'd been working for under the radar, the one Karl had been trying to get Trent to work for. If Karl had been willing to threaten Gabby's life to get Trent to help them, then why wouldn't his boss? His sister wasn't safe as long as they were out there. Trent's fists clenched as he stared up at the ceiling. He'd do anything to keep her out of this mess, to keep her alive.

But he didn't know how far he'd actually go to protect her, or the price he'd pay in the end.

* * *

_"What do you want?"_

"The fool has already been taken care of. His son killed him."

_"Somewhat unfortunate, but his son will suffice. He is more than capable of carrying out the plan."_

"And if he refuses to assist us?"

_"Then kill him along with the target. But I highly doubt that will be necessary if you threaten his sister."_

"The fool tried that already."

_"The fool threatened to remove her from the hospital. He didn't threaten her life directly."_

"And you think that will make a difference?"

_"I KNOW it will make a difference. After all, there's nothing he can do to stop us."_


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I merely borrow the characters to weave my own tales. My apologies if Trent seems too OOC. Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, , and alerted this story!

Okay, I am so sorry about how short this chapter is. I really, really, really tried my best to make this a long chapter, but in the end I just couldn't do it. Nothing else seemed to fit. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

* * *

_"You have three hours."_

Trent hung up with shaking hands and turned towards the gun lying on the counter. Brutally cold metal that felt so heavy in his hands when he picked it up.

_Three hours._ The words rang through his head with a strange sort of calm. _Three hours._

He was trembling so hard it took him nearly ten minutes to load the gun. His heartbeat thundered in his chest like someone was slamming a hammer against his ribs. It almost felt unreal.

The click it made when he shut the chamber brought him back to a foggy, sick sort of reality. He barely made it to the sink in time before he began retching.

_Gabby . . . forgive me. But this is the only way._

* * *

"Hey, Mikaela? Yeah, this is Sam. Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to go out. Like a date. To the park."

_"Sure."_

"But . . . uh, could you kind of . . . pick me up? Bee's not here right now, so I sorta don't have a ride."

_"And how much did that deflate your ego?"_ She teased.

Sam chuckled. "Hey, he's a busy guy." He defended his best friend.

_"So are you. Are you sure you aren't just going to ditch me for classes?"_

"I'll always have time for you." He promised warmly, glancing at the small black box sitting on his dresser.

_"I'll be there in half an hour."_

"Great. See you soon."

_"Bye."_

* * *

_One hour later:_

Sam was staring down the barrel of a gun. It wasn't anything new-he'd faced more than his fair share of guns in his life_._ But the person holding the gun came as a surprise.

"Trent?" He knew there was fear and uncertainty written all over his face. "Trent, what are you doing?"

Trent stared at him with a grim expression. "Witwicky, I'm so sorry."

"Trent . . ." Sam trailed off, swallowing as he saw the jock's finger flex on the trigger. "Trent, please . . ." Bumblebee had been called back to Deigo Garcia for a mission breifing, and Mikeala was in the store across the street getting ice-cream. The park was deserted, there was no one else except them. There was no way Sam could get the gun away in time, and Trent was standing at point blank range. He was going to die.

"I really don't want to do this, Witwicky." For a moment, Trent's mask faltered, revealing a strange mix of desperation, fear, determination, and regret. He shook his head, and the mask returned, but there was a glimmer of vulnerability in his eyes. "I really don't want to pull this trigger."

Seeing that, Sam forgot to be afraid. He just felt resigned. "Are you going to pull the trigger or not, Trent?"

"Sam," His voice broke, and the gun trembled slightly. "Sam, I've got a sister. She's fourteen years old. Right now, she's lying in a bed in room 464 at the General Hospital, fighting cancer. Sam, she's the most beautiful thing in my world, and I don't want to lose her."

"Trent-"

"So you swear to me. Sam, you _swear_, you keep Gabby safe." He continued fiercely. The shaking had spread to his entire body. "You keep her safe, you hear? You take her out of the country, break her out of the hospital, I don't care what it takes. Don't go to the police-you can't trust the police. Stay away from the cop car that has _"To punish and enslave"_ written on the side. You see it, you run for your life."

Sam's eyes widened in shock.

"Swear to me, Sam Witwicky. You _swear to me_."

And finally, Sam understood. Trent wasn't going to pull the trigger. Trent was never going to pull the trigger in the first place. He hadn't come to kill Sam, he'd come to pass on his dying wishes. And Sam knew that Trent was giong to die-he'd been ready to die the second he made the choice to spare Sam's life.

"I swear," He whispered, lowering his arms. "I'll keep her safe."

Trent bowed his head with a shuddering sigh. When he looked up, there were tears in his eyes. "Witwicky . . . I'm sorry for everything I did to you. I . . . you have a great life with Mikaela, 'kay? You love her like you never loved anyone else, and you protect her like she's your life."

"I will." Sam was close to crying at this point.

"And you tell Gabby . . . That I'm sorry, and that I love her . . . I love her so much . . . and I want her to continue fighting. Tell her never to give up." Trent paused, taking a deep breath. "There's an envelope in my bedroom, Witwicky. It'll explain everything. Now . . . you have to run."

Then he whirled around and aimed at the rapidly approaching cop car. A cop car that had _"To punish and enslave"_ written on the side.

"Run, Witwicky! Get outta here, now!" Trent screamed. He wasn't afraid anymore. He was just determined. If dying was what it took to save them, then he'd willingly die. _I'm so sorry, Sam. Please, forgive me._ Closing his eyes, he pulled the trigger.

And Sam ran. He grabbed Mikaela's hand as she came out of the shop and continued running, rapidly dialing Bumblebee's number. There was a sick feeling rapidly growing in his stomach as he ignored Mikaela's startled questions.

The instant he heard the enraged, mechanical roar, he knew Trent was never coming back.

For the first time in his life, Sam cried for Trent DeMarco. He cried for the sacrifice of the jock who'd been his enemy from the first time he stepped foot on the school grounds, but in the end, he cried for the Trent who'd been his friend for five precious minutes.


End file.
